


Ghostfacer In Love

by khorybannefin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Ghosts, Hunters & Hunting, Smut, odd couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: Y/N, Winchester sister, ditches her brothers to go ghost hunting with her current boyfriend, Harry Styles. Of course everything goes wrong.
Relationships: Harry Styles & Reader





	Ghostfacer In Love

Ghostfacers In Love

Pairing: Harry (Ghostfacers) + Reader

Author: khorybannefin

Author Gender: Female

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: Reader has been adopted by the Winchesters and they don’t approve of their “little sister” dating Harry. Harry, on the other hand, is determined to prove he’s good enough for her.

Warnings: ghost hunt, smut, profanity, blasphemy

A/N: A wonderful anonymous requester has been very very patient as I researched this in an effort to make it make sense. Not a lot of reference for Harry. I hope this meets at least some of your standards, Anon. Thank you for waiting!

“Dude, are you fucking kidding me?” Dean was raging, as he usually did. “You’re not going by yourself. No fucking way.”

“You listen to me, Dean Fucking Winchester,” you retorted, just as mad. “You can’t keep me like some rose under glass. It’s a standard salt and burn. If I don’t get out of this bunker I’m going to start making bonfires in the library!”

You thought Sam was going to choke. You’d seen him in plenty of situations that would make other people go runing for drugs and a rubber room. But threaten the books and you could practically see him holding them to his chest, stroking them and calling them “my precious”. Dean cut an eye a. You couldn’t decide if Dean was trying to tell him to man up about the books or jump in and stop you from leaving, which wasn’t going to happen. Not even that sweet little angel in the corner was going to keep you here. You were beyond stir crazy, and you had an ulterior motive for going out. Not that you were talling any of them that.

“I’m leaving Dean. I’ll see you in two days.”

“Fine!” He threw his hands up. “But if you get in trouble you call us. Or pray to Cas. One of the two, or both. Yeah, do both.”

“Whatever,” you grinned, waving as you slammed the door behind you.

The initial drive didn’t take long. You were meeting him half in the middle so you could go together. You had a better car and gear. He had the camera stuff and the research. Despite what people, people being the Winchesters, thought, Harry was good at what he did. He’d learned a lot from his experiences, and you were teaching him more every time. After everything he was still fascinated, still curious about the hunters life. He wasn’t ready to be a full hunter, but the ghost thing was still something he really enjoyed. So, if he wanted to ghost hunt then you would go with him, be his teacher and backup, and get to share something with him that was utterly unique to your life. After all, no one else you’d dated had known or even been interested in the life. It was a relief not to have to hide that part of yourself. Of course you still had to hide it from the boys. But that sort of made it more special. Something that was entirely yours.

You pulled up at the Park and Ride and grinned as you saw him checking batteries on all the gear. He was compulsive with that. You weren’t sure why, since he knew damn well when shit started to get ghosty all the electronics fritzed. But it was ok. The cameras made him feel better. And it certainly didnt hurt to have actual real information available onlline. Hunters couldn’t hit every haunting. If only a few people picked up some actual skills it would help. Hunters were a dying breed. Not long-lived by nature, actually. Had to get new ones somewhere. Of course Dean and Sam were way against that. It was too risky, according to them. How the hell did they think people learned how to be hunters? They dealt with shit and kept on surviving. That’s it. But it wouldn’t happen if you didn’t let them. Since they were too good to actually train anyone (except you, and that barely) then you would do it.

You got out of the car and sauntered up to the dark haired guy checking his equipment. He was so intent. It was adorable.

“Hey you,” you said softly, smiling at him.

“Hey you,” he replied, taking you in his arms and kissing you soundly. You melted into the kiss for a second then pushed him away, laughing.

“None of that. We have a job to do.”

“We have until nightfall!” He reached for you again and you ducked him.

“Don’t make me beat you.” You grabbed some of the bags out of the trunk, moving them to your car. “We’re not even at the location yet. And I’m sorry but I’m not coordinated enough to play with you and still drive.”

“Who said you had to?” He waggled his eyeborws sugestively. “I could just play with you…” You actually considered it for a second.

“You’d better not. If I get a ticket it’s going to be hard to explain to a cop that I was swerving because my boyfriend was diddling me while I drove.” Harry sighed.

“Fine, fine,” he raised his hand, surrendering to your logic. “I’ll keep both hands in sight.”

“You do that.” You pecked him as you passed with another load of gear.

It took you most of the rest of the day to get where you needed to be. You grabbed a motel room and drove past the property where you’d be setting up tonight. Not surprising it had been a prison, and later an insane asylum. The surprising part was that you weren’t interested in the main buildings. Neither of you were nuts enough to want to go in there. There’d be more ghosts per square foot than you wanted to ever deal with all at once. No, you were going to be in the House on the grounds. It was the Wardens house, but he had met with an untimely demise there. The doctors had never stayed more than a few nights there. They’d remodeled it into condos a few years ago. The few people they could get to sign a lease, knowing the properties history, ran from the place before they’d even finished moving in. Every year a fire started there. Didn’t matter that no one repaired the place. It burned anyway. No fuel, No accelerant that anyone could find, and yet that quarter of the house burned. The fire crews only responded to make sure it didn’t spread to the adjoining property. They didn’t waste time putting it out. It would be out by itself before dawn. So, you had to go in tonight.

You came in through the back of the property at dusk, geared out and carrying duffels for the rest of it. He had the cameras and stuff. You had weapos, salt, and gear for dealing with the ghost. You’d get the haunting on film, then take care of the corpse. It was well known where the grave was. In fact you had to pass the cemetary field to get to the mansion from the backside. It was sad. Hundreds of little white stones. Prisoners and patients who had no one. Given a paupers burial. The little stones had numbers. That’s it. But there was a little fenced one off to one side. They’d buried the Warden there. No church wanted to take a suicide and he didnt have a family plot.

The chains on the door were practically ornamental. Inside was graffiti, old squatters gear, the remains of candles. Just kids and idiots who didn’t know any better, trying to have a scary experience. You were pretty sure they hadn’t liked what they’d seen. Watching someone burn to death is ugly. The house itself wasn’t in bad shape, except for the top western corner, which was a blackened open hole out onto the sky. Carefully, testing the floor, you set up cameras in the room. You set more through the house, so you’d have visibility besides the cameras you had on you. You both clipped red lensed flashlights to your waists and to the sides of the head cams you both had. The red would illuminate the house, and show in the night vision, but not show outside the house. In case the cops decided to check the house they wouldn’t see obvious flashlights. That was your idea. Finally you were ready. You turned your camera to Harry and let him do his thing.

“Welcome, followers, to another thrilling adventure in the land of the dead……… We’re here in the Camden County Prisons Warden House. The last warden of the prison was killed here by a former inmate. He’d been released but obviously held a grudge. He broke in, tied the warden in his own bedroom, tortured him and set the room on fire, letting the warden burn alive. Now this is the legend. Comon information will tell you that there was no evidence of outside interference. The damage to the body, the broken bones, were attributed to the heat of the fire. None of the ropes or anything survived, and the inmate himself was never found. Every year that room burns again, but as you can see there’s nothing in here to burn. We’re here tonight to witness the phenomenon and hopefully put this disturbed spirit to rest.”

Harry had gotten a lot better since the Winchesters had run into him. He wasn’t with the group anymore. The Ghostfacers had disbanded a few years ago. Maggie had left for college, ditching Harry and Ed had “grown up”. He was the manager of the Kinko’s that he and harry had worked at. He’d even found a girl. Spruce was trying to get a Go Fund Me campaign up and running so he could make actual movies. You’d seen some of his work. It was horrible. So, only Harry was left, and he was determined to teach others how to deal with ghosts, so the things that happened to Corbett, his friend and intern, wouldn’t happen to anyone else.

When the cameras started to fuzz and the emf went wild they headed upstairs. You were there to see the warden backed into the room. And the room was there. Apparently the house itself was part of the apparition. Furniture, walls, everything.. You couldn’t see the inmate. It was like the warden was fighting empty air. He was tied to his own bed. You watched as wounds opened in his flesh, limbs seeming to crush themselves. The screaming didn’t stop. The fire lit around the bed, climbing the sheets and covering the man in the bed. He screamed into his lungs burned out, thrashing at his bonds until he was a blackened husk. The fire crawled the spectral walls and you watched then crumble. In the end the fire went out, leaving the room as you’d seen it previously, an old charred room, open to the sky.

“Wow,” Harry was taking off his gear. He went to retrieve the cameras, which hadnt burned despite the fact that they could feel the heat of the flames as they’d consumed the room. “That was pretty intense.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure how people can believe he did all of that to himself. All they had to do was watch. But I guess most people aren’t as brave as we are.” You winked at him and he smiled a sort of crooked smile. You both knew you weren’t brave, just experienced.

“Well, let’s go release this poor guy.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Let’s go dig for an hour.”

That was your least favorite part of the job. The damned digging. The only good thing about this one was that no one had bothered to go a full six feet and he was in a really cheap pine box. Small one too. His body hadn’t needed much space. The thing that got you was why he kept coming back. I mean, shouldn’t a guy who burned to death have kind of solved this problem? You got the bones exposed, and there really wasn’t much left of him, and salted them. Harry was saying a little prayer over the guy but before you could even light the match your camera flat quit and another ghost appeared. He was wearing a prison jumpsuit and was really pissed off.

He took one big stride and backhanded Harry into the nearest tree.. He came for you as you dove for the can of salt, coming up and flinging a handful at him. He dispersed, but was back very quickly. You and Harry ended up backed up to the tree, him with the can of salt and you with the ever-present shotgun.

“What the fuck?!” Harry was a little wild eyed. You didn’t usually run into violent ghosts. It was why you went on cases like this, easy ones. You looked around, not sure how the hell you were going to get out of this.

“Well, obviously the asshole that killed our Warden friend doesn’t want us messing with him.” You fired a shot, but the guy was reforming very quickly. Burning the Warden hadn’t stopped him. You wondered then if it was the Wardens ghost that kept relliving his last moments, or the inmate who killed him, enjoying the act over again on the anniversary. He got clever, coming at you from around the back of the tree. He knocked Harry back again, this time clocking him good. You watched his head bounce of the tree with a hard noise and he went down, groaning. He turned to you, slapped the gun out of your hands, and got you by the throat. You were struggling and kicking, hoping that harry would recover and get the salt on this guy before you blacked out.

Next thing you knew you heard Dean. You dropped to the ground gasping, looking up in time to see your violent offender go up in smoke. Dean was yelling, pointing at the edge of the property where emergency lights were flashing. He grabbed you and shoved your gear into your hands, putting a shoulder under Harry and booking it for the back where you’d come in.

Dean took charge of your car and drove like hell, yelling at you the whole way while you checked over Harry. He wasn’t really hurt. Had a goose egg, that’s for sure. He might have a mild concussion, but really all he needed was to change out of the bloody clothes. Head wounds bled like a bitch even if it wasn’t much of a cut. Sam met you at the Motel driving the Impala. He had apparently been the one dealing with the corpse of the inmate while Dean had come in for backup for you guys. He burst into your motel room, throwing your gear down and turned on you.

“What were you thinking?” He yelled, his voice hoarse already. “Did you even bother to research that damned haunting? And you wouldn’t let us go with you, but you took HIM? He’s worse than a rookie. I just can’t believe you could be this stupid!”

“Dean,” Sam broke in, quiet as usual though with a lot of concern on his face. “I think she knows she screwed up.”

“Does she? Because I dont think she does.” He turned on you, getting in your face. “Do you, Y/N? Do you know how bad this could have gone? He’d almost choked you out by the time I got there! And this asshat,” he kicked at Harry’s leg.“ This idiot was moaning about his head instead of having your back.”

You could understand he was mad at you. Ok, fine, you’d screwed up badly. If they hadn’t folllowed you and gotten the inmate you’d be dead. All that was fine. Dean’s attitude, and abuse, towards Harry was not something you would tolerate.

“You shut your pie hole Dean Winchester. You don’t know anything about Harry. He always has my back, every time. The ghost got a punch on him, sure, but the same has happened to you and don’t even bother to deny it.” You were screaming now, your anger choking you up. “Harry has been my partner more often than either of you so you can show a little fuckingg respect.” Dean backed up a step and you could see the wheels spinning in his head. He was putting it together and you could have put your face in your hands when it clicked. His face darkened.

“Partner? Every time?” Dean was looking at you with that tilt to his head, implying that he hadn’t quite heard you right. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Him? You’re with him? Like WITH him? And you’ve been going on jobs together?” You stood, head up, facing him.

“That’s right. And?”

“And? And he’s a loser. He’s stupid enough to be dangerous and he’s nowhere near good enough for you!”

“Who the fuck are you?” The voice came from behind you. Harry had come out of the bathroom, a cold towel pressed to the lump in the back of his head.

“What did you say to me?” Dean had turned his wrath of the shorter man.

“I said who the fuck are you to decide who she associates with. I might not be the greatest guy in the world, but it’s up to her to decide if I’m "good enough”, not you. So fuck off.“ Dean just stared at Harry in shock. A couple of years ago Harry never would have said anything remotely like that. Tonight, however, he stood toe to toe with a furious Dean Winchester and stood up for your right to have the boyfriend that you wanted and not who Dean thought appropriate.

"Fine. That’s just awesome. Come on Sammy. Let’s leave the lovebirds to it.” The slamming door had a certain finallity to it. You knew Dean would cool down eventually. Sam would help. You didn’t know if that meant Dean would accept Harry, but riht then you didn’t need him to. You walked up to your still dishevelled man and wrapped your arms around him.

“You just told off Dean Winchester.”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you. “Yeah, I kinda did. He had a point though.”

“Dean always has a point. I just wish it wasn’t him being a dick all the time.”

“I don’t mean that,” Harry stepped out of your embrace and set the towel down on the table. He looked at you, spreading hs hands wide. “Look at me. I’m not a Winchester. Hell, I’m not even a Ghostfacer any more. I’m not great at what I do. I screwed up and almost got you killed. I’m not good enough for you.” He looked down at the floor and spoke in a whisper.

“But I want to be.”

You couldn’t help it. You went to him, wrapped him in your arms, and kissed the hell out of him. You kissed him like he’d just said the most romantic thing you’d ever heard, because he had. It was so sweet and tragic and so entirely untrue.

“Babe, you are not unworthy of me. If anything you just proved it. However,” you gave him a saucy grin. “If you’d like to attempt to "earn” this fictional worthiness I can think of a few good ways.“

His eyes widened, looking at you. It was clcear he didn’t believe that you were in the mood after all of that. Truth be told, you hand’t gotten all the way out of the mood since the park and Ride. You kissed him again and felt his arms surround you. It appeared you had convinced him that you were serious and he was not opposed to the suggestion.

"So, my Lady,” he asked. “How shall I earn this worthiness?” You pretended to think.

“I want you to undress me.” He smiled at that.

“As you wish.”

His hands lingered as he slowly peeled layers of clothing off of you. You stood still, not helping, watching him play with buttons and zippers, noticing the grave dirt on the both of you and feeling the warmth of his hands. He made a point to make a lot of skin contact as everything was coming off. He ended on his knees, your panties in his hands. You loved looking down at him like that, almost like he was a supplicant at prayer. You reached down, cupping his face in your hand. He turned and placed a kiss in your palm.

“Now, my Knight, strip yourself.”

Harry was much quicker about doffing his own clothes. Seeing him nude provoked you into closing the distance between you. Hot skin brushed against soft places as you drowned in kisses, touching everywhere you could reach. He’d een half erect when he’d stripped, but certainly wasn’t half anything now. You stroked him and he shuddered in pleasure.

“Not yet, my Lady,” he pleaded. “I still haven’t earned your pleasure.”

“Then show me your devotion, dear Knight.”

He backed you over to the bed and lay you down. He was on his knees beside the bed and you grabbed pillows to prop you up. You wanted to watch. He purposely brushed light fingers across all the fine skin on the inside of your thighs and hips, barely touching, until your nerves were singing with this nearly phantom sensation. By the time he brushed his fingers, with that same lightness, across your velvet outer lips you were sighing in delayed pleasure. He found the glistening wetness of your desire and used to to fascilitate his manual exploration. His fingers worked up and down bottom to top and again, slidding over the most sensitive skin and finding your clit, already swollen and sensitive. When he added his tongue to the mix he came off the bed.

“Yes! There!” Your hands reached to his head. His tongue circled your bud as he pushed two fingers inside your waiting tightness and found that special spot. He was dedicated, and skilled, bringing you twice before giving it up and coming to kiss you. You devoured him, not caring that all you could taste was yourself.

“Am I worthy yet?” You laughed breathlessly as he asked. You reached down and grabbed him erection, stroking it hard, making him moan.

“I deem you worthy enough to fuck me right now before I go insane. How’s that?”

“I’ll take it,” he said with an enthusiastice grin.

You kissed until kissing wasn’t enough. Then it was mouths, tongues, and teeth everywhere either of you could reach. He tormented your nipples as you teased his cock with your mouth. Finally you’d maddened each other enough that you couldn’t stand it.

He filled you at the first thrust and your moan was low, a sound of pure lust. He moved in your and it was a world of pleasure on it’s own. Then he asked you if he could try something new, which you of course consented to. He bent your legs up, bringing your knees to your chest, legs together, and your feet in the middle of his chest. It was an awkward position, at least until he entered you, and then you didn’t care. Everything down there was exposed without your hips to get in the way. With every thrust he ressed and brushed aganst you, the head of him nailing your g-spot over and over. When you finally came in a rush it felt like you crushed him, the clenching inside was so hard. He enjoyed it too, coming with a deep grown as he thrust hard and deep into you.

You took a shower together after, getting rid off all the sweat, dirt, and other things. You curled up together under the sheets. You peeted his face, both of you very sleepy. You managed to tell him before the both of you fell asleep.

“You’re beyond good enough for me, you know. You’re all I want, and Dean can go piss in the wind if he doesn’t like it.”


End file.
